


Fubsy

by notjustmom



Series: Words, Words, Words [132]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Gen, Johnlock Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-10
Updated: 2016-02-10
Packaged: 2018-05-19 13:07:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 312
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5968372
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notjustmom/pseuds/notjustmom
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>fubsy: adjective: fuhb-zee: short and stout (British dialect)</p><p>Fubsy is formed on the basis of the obsolete term fubs or fub, used as a term of endearment meaning "chubby person." It entered English in the late 1700s.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fubsy

John sighed as he looked in the mirror.

"Fubsy...I'm getting fubsy, maybe I need to start going to the gym."

Sherlock entered their bedroom and stood behind his lover, gently wrapping his arms around him and nuzzling that spot that always sent shivers through John. "Don't you dare. You are perfect, love."

John snorted. "You are hardly an objective observer, honeybee."

Sherlock moved to stand in front of his best friend, his conscience and the love of his life.

"What do I observe? I see a man, sturdily made, not quite as short as people think, a surgeon's gifted hands, a warrior's heart..." At this moment, he placed his elegant fingers on John's chest and took a deep breath. "....and the only man I will ever love."

John shook his head and looked down at the floor, as the light coming from Sherlock's indescribable eyes was too much. "How...?" He whispered.

"Please. Look at me, John. I need you to see, I need you to know..."

John straightened up, blinked and saw love standing before him; asking him, imploring him to understand that the force of nature in front of him would love him no matter what. He cleared his throat and reached up to hold Sherlock's face in his hands.

"I do, I thought I knew before, but..."

He wasn't able to finish the sentence as Sherlock bent down (not as much as people would think) and took his words with that mouth, that mouth that could bring tears to the eyes of veteran criminals and Yarders alike; and was also responsible for silencing his partner with such sweetness that drove him to his knees.

"...I know now, love," he whispered when he was able to catch his breath and find his voice.

"Breakfast. Someone is not feeding you up as they should."

"I do love you, honeybee."

"I know."


End file.
